Tailor Made
by Scarlet Ibis
Summary: Takes place during season two through the end of season three. Come see the softer side of Xander and Cordelia.


"Tailor Made"

What was it about this boy? He wasn't traditionally good looking. Or charismatic. At least, in public. In private, he was like this whole other person—this really _hot _person who she couldn't keep her hands off, nor her clothes on. She threw her head back, sighing as she straddled him on the white leather couch in her basement, feeling his erection through his khakis and her panties, as he fondled her naked breasts.

"Oh _god_ Cordelia," he moaned in this rich, deep timbre that was _so_ not his regular voice. It was the voice of a man—a sexy manly man, and not that of a boy prone to running and screaming like a woman.

He sat up a bit, and she helped him take his shirt off. He grabbed her hips, still covered in the soft leather of her mini skirt, and licked a dark, swollen nipple. She clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and then he nibbled, making her gasp.

And then she was on her back, skin slightly sticking to the leather as he hovered above her. Her eyes were hooded as she looked down. Xander was bracing his weight with one hand, and the other was unzipping his pants.

But she wasn't afraid.

They had played this game several times before—the age old dance of dry humping.

"Just take them all the way off, Xander. The zipper can kinda be uncomfortable."

He nodded and stood up quickly, dropping the pants and kicked them off. She gave a sharp inhalation of breath as she saw his erection jutting from his plaid boxers. It was strange—all of the time they'd spent together, and she'd never seen it. Honestly, she was a bit afraid that if there was that much nakedness, she wouldn't be able to stop. She knew he wouldn't mind, being a guy and all, but she wanted her first time to be special. But as he crawled back over her, kissing her tenderly, she also knew that she wanted him to be her first. At some point.

It wasn't just hormones. Xander made her feel; made her care. She knew that he made her a better person, and she couldn't stop herself form falling in love with him even if she wanted to. She didn't want to stop though—not anymore. Of course, she wouldn't tell him that.

She moaned in his mouth as he ground against her in just the right place, grasping at his back, involuntarily wrapping her legs around him. She knew he was the one.

He was the _one_.

So what if he had no social status or money? She would proudly wear his name one of these days. Cordelia Harris.

_Oh god, how that has no flare whatsoever. _

_Now Xander Chase…that's perfect._

_

* * *

_

To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure if they were going to pick up where they left off last school year. He was so sure that she'd forgotten about him.

But she hadn't.

In fact, she'd thought about him just as much as he'd thought about her. All it took was for a little danger, one of them rescuing the other, and bam; they were in each others arms again—literally.

It felt like coming home. Well okay, a nicer home that clearly wasn't where he lived, but still…

They were dating again, and tonight was their two month make up anniversary. Xander didn't think it could've gotten any better after her little slayer role play—skin tight black leather pants, incredibly insensible three inch boots, a lacy black bra and white tank top. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a pony-tail. She charged at him, tackling him onto his bed.

"Come on, you know the drill. I kill vampires. Unfortunately, that includes you, you blood sucking fiend," she said with a grin and an arch of an eyebrow. But then she looked confused, leaning back on his thighs a bit. "Only…I don't have my stake. Darn it, how could I forget it? You wouldn't happen to have one on you, by any chance? That I could like, borrow?"

Xander was too awestruck to actually reply. Well, anything that was coherent, anyway.

Cordelia, expecting as much, began to search on her own. She started with his chest, laying her palms flat, and just slowly trailed them downward until they got to the waistband of his jeans. Her hands moved to the center—towards his button and zipper. It seemed like an eternity before she finally had him out in the open.

"Maybe I can take you out this way…"

Though he could hear the slight waver in her voice, he didn't fully register what was about to happen. His hips seemed to reach for the ceiling at the slightest touch of her hot, wet mouth on him.

He wanted to ask her if she was sure, and tell her that she didn't have to. But all he could get out was a "Guh!" Thirty seconds or so later, it didn't matter anyway. He was in a bit of a daze, but was alert enough to hear Cordy spit in his trashcan, mumbling "eww." She came back in his line of sight, wiping her mouth, looking at him expectantly.

"What, did you like, read books or something?" He didn't mean for his first words to be that, but she was just so…perfect.

_Oh god, please let her have researched some sex book._

She gave him a withering look at that, and Xander felt really guilty. Worried, but guilty all the same.

"Xander, you're the only…I've never done this with anyone else, okay? I just…I see the way you look at Faith, and Buffy still, and I just—I _can't_ be strong like that. Ever. I don't wanna lose you." She looked so…sad. Lost.

Freightened.

He reached out for her, and she came to him. He held her close, kissed her forehead, then gently cupped her face, making her look at him.

"Cordy, I never even dreamed that I could ever get someone half as wonderful as you. So okay, semi-lusty—" On her disapproving frown, he amended, "Okay, _lusty_ feelings for super strong chicks. But it's just hormones. You…Cordelia. I love you."

And she cried. He kissed her tears, and then followed with her lips. Soft, sweet kisses that made her pain disappear. In an instant, they went from soft and sweet to hard and passionate. Though Xander had not read any books, he tried his best to give her a fraction of the pleasure she gave him, licking and kissing her most private place. Though she came, he knew he could do better for next time.

He would get a book.

* * *

It hurt, when they broke up. But high school was officially over. And she was leaving this pissant town for good. Well, not just yet—there was something she had to do first. 

"So, I hear you're leaving Sunnydale," she asked him casually.

"Yeah. For the summer, anyway. I wanna get out for awhile and see something. I hear you're going to L.A.?"

"Yup. I mean, I'm long overdue from being discovered." He grinned wryly at her. "Okay, let's stop the chit chat and drop the pettiness. I need a favor."

"Yuh huh. You'd think I'd see that coming a mile away," he said sarcastically.

"I'm being serious, Xander. There's something that I need."

"Of course there is. But hey, we're bygones, right? Shoot."

She looked down at her feet then, twisting her hands nervously. Then she took a huge breath, and looked him right in the eyes.

"Honestly, I just don't want to go to L.A. as some fresh meat virgin. I'd rather you do it. I mean, that was the plan anyway before…"

Xander just stared at her for a moment, completely gob smacked. Pulling himself together, he asked, "So, you just want to use me for my body then?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, at least you were kind enough to ask me first. You don't plan on attempting to choke me to death when it's all over, right?"

She rose her eyebrows in a "what the hell?" manner before saying, "God, you can't just take a gift, can you?" .

Xander giggled and shrugged nervously. "Never mind—just kidding."

"So, you'll do me, I mean, it then?"

Xander swallowed deeply, and then nodded. "Yeah. Yes. Okay."

"Good. Just don't get all attached afterwards."

He smiled softly. "Scouts honor."

"Were you ever actually a scout?"

"Cordy—"

"Well, we can't do it at my house."

"You mean tonight?" he asked, sounding just this side of nervous.

"Definitely don't wanna do it at yours, so…" She continued on as if he hadn't said anything, contemplating where they could go.

"I have a few extra bucks—could spring for a place for the night," he suggested, finally comfortable with this odd situation.

"Hey! I'm not some cheap skanky whore! I'm not going to some motel!"

"_Hotel_, Cordy. I have some extra money and…sure, it's dipping into my road trip fund, but this should be special. Right?"

Her eyes turned soft, and she responded quietly, "Right. Special."

"I mean, you use a guy for sex, he takes your virginity…Should be some place swanky, and not skanky."

The line had the desired effect—she laughed.

* * *

The hotels by the Sunnydale Airport were the nicest. Their room was spacious—the linens crisp and clean, the walls somewhat soundproof, and overall, perfect considering the last minute circumstances. 

"Cordy, you sure about this?" Xander asked, tossing the brown bag with the box of Trojans on the bed before shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Instead of answering, she walked up to him, wrapped one arm around his neck before spinning them around, collapsing on the bed.

"Ow!" she cried out, as the sharp edge of the box dug into her lower back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah…" she muttered, tossing the offending box onto the night table.

He kissed her, long and deep. All awkwardness was gone, after that.

Soft caresses, delicate kisses, and gentle murmurs of affection.

It was slow, tender, and memorable. Xander was sure he wouldn't forget a moment of it. His time with Faith was kind of a blur…but this—_this_ was perfection. They made love twice that night, and once more—one last time, that morning. Neither said a word afterwards.

Cordelia showered as Xander dressed. He wasn't ready to be rid of her scent. When she came out, hair damp and pulled into a bun, she glanced at him shyly.

"Ready to go?" she asked. He nodded, picking up her night bag for her. Cordelia had to bite her lip—carrying her bag, opening doors for her…she didn't know how she managed to not cry in his car on the way to the bus station. He pulled up in the front and parked the car, tapping his fingers lightly on the wheel.

"So, I guess this is the end of the line, huh?" His voice was overt with remorse, and it was that that made a few tears spill from her large, brown eyes.

"Yeah, looks like." She sniffled.

"Cordy—"

"Don't, Xander. Just…don't."

"But I mean—we still have something. We still make sense. Now, more than ever."

"I know. But I can't." She turned towards him. "I have to move on."

"I know I promised not to make a thing out of this—not get attached. But I can't help it. I still love you."

"No…don't do this to me. Damn it!" she yelled, slamming her fists on his armrest, slightly cracking the plastic so that it dented inward.

"Okay, once again, confessing my love to you is not something of the good."

"Xander, our time's past. High school is over, and so are we."

"Right," he conceded quietly, not looking at her.

"Hey." She turned his head so that he looked at her.

"Maybe…maybe later, ya know? Who knows what the future will hold, right? Maybe on your trip, you could swing by LA before coming back to Sunnydale." He smiled sadly at that.

"Yeah. Maybe."

She refused to let him leave the car, even though he offered to carry her bags. She knew that she had to leave him behind, and if he walked with her, she wasn't quite sure it would work out that way.

As he watched her walk towards the station, he knew it would be the last time he'd see her.

"Goodbye, Cordy."

He started the car engine.

"Well, one door closes, another one opens, right? At least a window, or something…"

And Xander began his journey.


End file.
